


The Masked Man and the Hero

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Implied Future OT3, M/M, Meyer Is Bad With Praise, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Perfectoilshipping, Secret Identity, Some Implied Lysandre/Augustine, future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a visitor in Sycamore labs that Lysandre has not been acquainted with yet, that has to change. </p>
<p>It isn't for any other reason than ensuring that the Professor's research isn't being preyed upon. It would be awful if the Professor wasn't a good judge of character. Good thing Lysandre is there to play judge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Masked Man and the Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryttu3k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryttu3k/gifts).



> A pairing that has had me curious. I wanted to give it a shot and write something involving Lysandre and Meyer. This fic isn't super shippy, but I wanted to develop a backstory that could explain their interest in each other. 
> 
> Of course Sycamore is rooting for them from afar.

"Who is that man?"

It was the first comment, a question, that Lysandre spoke in regards to the man he saw bent over a gutted air conditioning unit. Its insides spread across the neatly trimmed lawn behind him in various piles. They held no clear organization, but with how the man reached for a part without a glance, he must have had a system. Lysandre's eyes wouldn't have even wandered to the spot if it wasn't for the sad state that the busted appliance was in. It was hot, border-lining on rather uncomfortable. The weather outside was sweltering enough, but the stuffiness of the lab and the hothouse like quality of the glassed in garden made it even more unbearable.

Lysandre hooked a finger behind his cravat to loosen the fabric from his neck. His jacket had already been abandoned to prevent heat exhaustion. Hair that once stood perfectly in its groomed peaks began to fray and droop. So his gaze searched for the air conditioning unit to observe it with annoyance at its useless state, only to pique his curiosity by a face he had not yet been acquainted with.   

Professor Sycamore looked practically unaffected by the balmy atmosphere of the lab's garden. Though his curls showed the truth to the high humidity. Regardless, he was still quite enthusiastic about sharing new information that had been uncovered since Lysandre's last visit. He was wise enough to have abandoned his own lab coat, his sleeves were rolled up past his elbow, and he had a glass of water on hand to sip at while he spoke. Otherwise he still had the same amount of energy he always held. A busted appliance wasn't going to be enough to stop Professor Augustine Sycamore from sharing his research.

He had some pity for his guest however, "That would be Meyer Limone." There was a light, playful nudge at Lysandre's elbow, "He is a real life saver that one. He'll have the AC fixed in no time."

_Meyer Limone._

Lysandre took note of the name, "I've said this before, but you should consider just replacing the machine."

The Professor chuckled at the suggestion, "We don't need a new one. Why replace it when it can be fixed to work as new?" He raised an eyebrow, "Isn't that more responsible?"

"Oui." Lysandre returned with a nod. There was no use in arguing when the Professor was preaching his own rhetoric right back at him. If the machine could be fixed rather than replaced entirely it was more acceptable. However, only if the fix was as efficient as a replacement. It wasn't the first time that the lab was left at the mercy of the summer heat. Professor Sycamore had it down to a simple science at that point at how to cope with it.  

Meyer continued to work without rest, only stopping to wipe sweat from his brow with his nearby rag. His mind worked and his mouth lightly voiced his internal dialogue as he grabbed the next part that was needed. All that was needed was to take the dismantled puzzle and return it back to how it was before. The process thrust the mechanic into his own world, leaving him unaware that his onlookers spoke of him.

Lysandre needed some relief from the heat, sending the Professor a bit of a pleading look to suggest so. Thankfully it was understood and he followed the Professor outside the glassed-in garden in hopes that the outside air would offer a breeze. It made it a bit more tolerable, though not entirely to his liking. Certainly the thought came to mind that he could just excuse himself, simply meet up with the Professor on another more comfortable date. It was becoming too difficult to work around his schedule, too much required his attention anymore. He had to just deal with the slight bit of discomfort, otherwise he may not get the chance to see the Professor for another week or two.

"You look so spent." Professor Sycamore remarked as he ventured to a nearby vending machine nestled against the brick wall of the neighboring building to offer some refreshment, "I feel terrible that this day hasn't been the best for you."

He offered the other man a water bottle, who took in without much hesitation. Once half the bottle was emptied he spoke, "Your research is important, it isn't any trouble." The bottle crinkled in his grasp as he caught sight of the mechanic through the glass, there was another subject that weighed on his mind, "What can you tell me about this Meyer?"

It was curiosity of course, though he typically took an interest in anyone that the Professor appeared to admire or respect. If they had earned the Professor's admiration they were most likely a worthy person in their own right. At least that was what was common thankfully. It didn't always prove to be true, it was entirely possible that the Professor's trust was misplaced. Who would suspect that the mechanic was anything more than what he said or appeared. People harbored dangerous secrets, not only secrets kept with the intent to protect those they cared about. No, not everyone meant well like him.

The Professor took a few swigs of his own bottle of water, "I really shouldn't," He began, "His son, Clemont, is the gym leader here. Such a bright child, I believe I mentioned him before."

Lysandre nodded politely, "You have. Meyer is his father, remarkable."

"His daughter, Bonnie, isn't old enough to choose a starter yet, but I already know that she will be a great candidate for the next dex program." Sycamore smiled while he thought, "She would make a great pokémon researcher, she just loves pokémon so much!"

"What of Meyer himself?" Lysandre asked. The knowledge he was receiving wasn't quite what he was looking for. He needed more info before he could investigate the mechanic further. Regardless of how wonderful the man's children were, that didn't rule out the possibility that he had unfavorable intentions regarding the Professor. Anyone that could be that close could steal something vital, setting all the years of hard work back. It wasn't something that Lysandre would allow.

He made his questions more precise, "Marital status? Does he live in the city? How long have you known him?" There was little tact, but there was no question what information he was after.

Sycamore simply shuffled his feet, an awkward chuckle escaped his mouth, "He has been my go-to for repairs around the lab for some time now..." He took another swig of his drink, "Perhaps for the rest that you are curious about you should speak to him yourself?"

"Speak to me about what?" Meyer strolled out the glass door from the garden. He fumbled at his pockets to dig out some coins for the vending machine. Lysandre swept in without hesitation and discarded his own money into the machine for the mechanic to buy a drink.

"Thanks!" Meyer said with a grin, he cracked open the lemonade and nearly drained it. His hand extended to the taller man, it was smudged with stains of grease and oil. It was the hand of someone who spent their life working hard, worn nails, raw fingertips, and rough skin. Lysandre's hand met his, painstakingly groomed nails, soft fingertips, and perfect skin.

"My name is Meyer."

"Lysandre, pleasure to meet you."

The contrast of their joined hands ended when they disconnected, but Lysandre could still feel the lingering warmth they left behind.

"If I may, I would like to ask you a few questions about yourself?" Sometimes getting the information from the source was the best tactic. Even if it would have been more subtle for the Professor to just share the information himself. Lysandre couldn't fault him for not wanting to speak for the mechanic himself, it was honorable.

Meyer hesitated and passed a hand through his hat-hair before replacing his cap. He gave a glance towards the Professor, who gave him a reassuring smile, "Sure," He replied with some curiosity, or perhaps just a bit of nervous hesitation, "How about we go back inside? I just finished repairing the AC unit , "He pointed back inside with his thumb, "It will be much more comfortable than continuing to steam outside."

No one standing outside wanted to argue against that. The promise of cooler air drove them all back into the building. Lysandre was the last through the doorway so he could watch the mechanic with further interest without suspicion. Meyer's slight nervous mannerisms did not go without notice, perhaps there was a secret to be discovered after all.

 

* * *

 

 It was just becoming late when Lysandre strolled from the lab. He took in a huge draw of the cooler evening air and let out a contented sigh. The street lamps shone like personal spotlights on each side of the street. Lysandre stood beneath one beam as though presented on a stage. His appearance was back to his level of preferred perfection, having been able to tidy himself up in the Professor's private quarters. Professor Sycamore was all too familiar with Lysandre's desire to look his best and was more than happy to allow him access to his apartment to gussy up.   

The mechanic, Meyer, had left them earlier, but not without sharing some information about himself. It was a pleasant encounter if Lysandre was asked. His tact returned during the questioning, slowly leading the discussion so Meyer would feel more inclined to share.

Even though the purpose was to seek information for later investigation, he had to admit that conversing with Meyer was refreshing. The man had surprising wit and knowledge about a vast amount of topics. They discussed his work, which made Lysandre ponder whether or not he should consider hiring the man himself. It wasn't a horrible idea, Meyer seemed well suited for the future that he hoped to achieve. His skills would be such a waste otherwise.

Professor Sycamore's face hardly changed from the small smile that he held while watching the two men converse. It wasn't until Meyer excused himself for other responsibilities that Sycamore had any comments to share, "You two appear to have a lot in common."

Was there a hint of mischief in the Professor's voice? Lysandre chose to disregard it if there was, "He seems quite knowledgeable, which I appreciate." He had to stop to avoid developing a deep frown at the Professor's continued look, there was no question that his eyes were sparkling with improper notions, "I believe my fears were misguided, he seems trustworthy at this time."

Professor Sycamore laughed freely, just a short and cheerful chuckle, and patted Lysandre's thigh, "I'm so blessed to have such protective people in my life."

Lysandre raised an eyebrow in question, "So I'm not the only one?"

The Professor only laughed off the question and soon the subject was pushed away and forgotten.

Back out on the street Lysandre decided that walking would do him some good, choosing that over hailing a cab. It served as a way to make his presence known to the other citizens of Kalos, seen as a man among the people. He needed to be an approachable face to the masses, if not approachable at the very least recognizable.

Straight up the Vernal Avenue he traveled, greeting passersby if needed. He took a moment to admire the illuminated Prism Tower. Perhaps, he thought, he should inquire about sitting in and watching one of Clemont's  gym matches. That was another brilliant individual whose talent would go to waste if not saved. Lysandre made a mental note and continued.

He cut into the Magenta Plaza, just to pass by his cafe before continuing to his home located on the Hibernal Avenue.  The Plaza was surprisingly quiet and empty, the nearby lamps apparently burned out. Lysandre thought little of it as he observed the lamp in question. What he found was not a burned out bulb, but a smashed one that layered the cobblestone with thin glass and filament.

His gaze shifted quickly when he heard the distinctive drag of boots against the stone. At one entrance to the Plaza stood three figures, blocking his chosen mental path he constructed earlier.

Regardless of the intent of the people, Lysandre was not one to be easily intimidated. He stood tall, which wasn't a difficult feat, and strode with strength and confidence to the mysterious trio. Once close, he could make out their features more easily. Three teens, perhaps young adults, he wasn't entirely sure. They dressed in similar garb that reminded Lysandre of a punk fashion line that was fast becoming popular overseas. Though something about the way the three people wore it seemed more meant to intimidate rather than be a fashion statement.

_"How crude"_ , Lysandre thought, _"How crude and stereotypical."_ His nose wrinkled at the bright jutting spikes of hair on the central man. The assumed leader of the small crew only grinned in response.

"Excuse me." Lysandre spoke firmly, "I must get through."

One of the members, a woman with bright neon pink braids, spoke in a shrill, mocking tone, "I'm afraid that is not how this is going to work." She unclipped a pokeball from her studded belt, the two other members responded in kind, "How about you hand over your pokémon, old man." It would appear that she was the one calling the shots.

Lysandre was taken aback , but refused to let idle threats against him stand, "I will give you one final chance to move out of my way." His tone was low like a growling Pyroar, his face just as menacing. He glanced at his keystone ring and let his lips form a small grin, "I will not show mercy. Filth like you just proves to remind me that I am making to correct judgments of this world." He clutched the capsule of his Gyarados and brought it into his grasp, "Final chance."

Two of the member's faces paled, however the woman continued to stand in defiance, "It looks like the rich get all the toys huh?" She pointed at the keystone ring, "I'll be taking that as well."

That was all Lysandre needed to hear, truth be told he was ready for a battle. Three against one would mean little against his mega-evolved Gyarados. The pokeball was just about to let loose from his palm and erupt in its brilliant light to reveal his pokémon, however he never got the chance.

A sharp pain cracked through the back of his kneecaps, buckling them instantly. The force of his fall caused his grasp to falter and soon the capsule was snatched up by a bat-wielding teen. With a nod from the pink-haired woman, he was off like a flash down an alleyway with Lysandre's Gyarados in his thieving fingers.

It wasn't an actual language that Lysandre yelled. His voice was a mixture of pain, shock, and fast burning rage. His snarling features were soon met with those of a nearly equally snarling Mightyena.

The woman patted her prized pup on its broad head, "Now for the rest." She chimed with deep satisfaction, "I bet you'll pay a lot to have all your pokémon returned when we take the rest." Her two fellow members laughed, "I'm keeping that keystone however," She knelt down to meet Lysandre's face, "Why should only the rich get such things? I tried my best at the Tower of Mastery, but in the end that bastard of an old man gave the mega ring to the person raised by the 'right' family, the one who had the 'blessed' heritage." She flicked her chipped nail at Lysandre's forehead, "What about the commoners? Am I not worthy?"

If the situation wasn't how it was currently, Lysandre would have taken the opportunity to bring the teens under his wing. They certainly could have been eager members of Team Flare, but Lysandre was not in the mood to recruit, "Return Gyarados to me now!" He boomed.

He winced when he tried to stand, but his legs refused to fight through the pain. The woman let out a scowl, "Mightyena, use bite!"

It wasn't as though Lysandre had fear, but he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the beast's fangs to rip into him. He expected the tearing of his clothes and skin, blood to seep from the fresh wound and leave him yelling out in pain.

Instead he heard a thudding impact followed by the loud yip of the creature in front of him and the sound of dull claws scraping across the stone. He felt heat and the soft tickle of feathers. It wasn't until he heard the commanding voice that he opened his eyes.

" Mega Blaziken, Flamethrower!" The large bird-like pokémon called back an affirmative before flames spewed from its beak, the flames that circles its wrists were burning white hot with the promise of battle.

The Mightyena hardly recovered from the previous attack before it was caught up in the burning cone. It yelped again and ran in a panic towards the stunned bodies of the gang. Blaziken's flames continued to trail it without relent.

"MIGHTYENA, YOU COWARD!" The pokémon's trainer screamed as her and the two other members had to duck away from the invading fire. They slammed into the hard ground and scrambled to gain traction to escape. Hand-over-foot they scurried in three separate directions. The woman only hesitated to call back her pokémon before dashing away around a dark corner.

Lysandre tilted his sight to get a good look at his rescuer. His face was hidden behind a grand mask that was modeled after his mega pokémon , a long cape draped his shoulders, and his fists were encased in thick leather gloves.

The hero was quick to kneel down to Lysandre and assist him into a sitting position, "You are injured." Not a question, because it was obvious that it was true. His pants were filthy from meeting the ground, the leather of his jacket scratched, fur trim flecked with drool from the previously snarling Mightyena. Lysandre could feel that his palms were raw from scraping against the rough ground. Not to mention the pain that was hard to ignore from his legs being bashed with a bat. Even though his own state wasn't the best, it was the furthest from his mind.

"My Gyarados." Lysandre's voice verged on desperate.

The masked man turned to his partner and gave a nod, after it was returned the pokémon leapt into the air and bounded across rooftops. The bright ribbon-like flames bellowed from its amazing speed.

"Remarkable..." Lysandre couldn't help but voice. Any sight of a flawless Mega Evolution was enough to cause him awe, it was a shared trait between himself and the Professor.

"Mega Blaziken will find your Gyarados, I can promise you that." The masked man pulled Lysandre's arm over his shoulder, "Let's get you up, I'll take you to the hospital."

Lysandre grimaced from the pulling, "That won't work, I'm quite tall."

There was a pause, it appeared like the masked man was chewing at his lip in thought, "I'll carry you then, unless you think you can walk?"

There was an attempt made, and to Lysandre's dismay his injury made walking a difficulty, "I assure you that you won't be lifting me with ease."

As though a challenge was made, the masked man's arms moved to support Lysandre's back and legs. After stabilizing his stance, the tall redhead was astounded by how easily he was lifted into the masked hero's hold, "Who are you?" He exclaimed.

The man simply smiled, it was a look that was almost familiar, but Lysandre couldn't place it, "Blaziken Mask." He answered, "Now let's get you to the hospital, those thieves did a number on your legs."

It wasn't the answer that Lysandre was striving for, but if Blaziken Mask was pushing for the typical super hero alias, he was doing it well enough. So without further questions, and with thoughts serving to ignore the pain in his legs and the worry he held for his missing pokémon, he relaxed under his hero's grasp while the man dashed with speed and grace through hidden walkways.

They arrived swiftly at the back entrance of the Lumiose Saint-Antoine University Hospital. Lysandre was placed carefully on an available bench. Once his legs pressed against the wood of the seat he let out a hissing breath, "I'll signal one of the staff for you." Blaziken Mask's hand hovered for a moment over Lysandre's leg, "I'll leave once I'm sure you'll be safe."

Lysandre wanted to press further questions of his masked hero, but with a victorious call Mega Blaziken came swooping in. Chest plumage puffed out with pride and the pokémon approached the pair. Held in its claw was Gyarados' pokeball, it was presented so Lysandre could take it easily.

 "Merci beaucoup!" Lysandre sighed with relief, he took back his pokémon graciously and turned towards Blaziken Mask, "I could never thank you enough, I would have torn through all of Kalos and more to return Gyarados to me."

Blaziken Mask nodded with understanding, his hand finally pressed into Lysandre's leg with care, "I have no doubt, "He motioned to the keystone ring, "With a bond like that I would believe that many would turn over the entire world for their partner." There was a slight sadness in his voice, "I know that I would do anything to keep Blaziken safe from harm. I'm glad we could return Gyarados back to you."

"Thank you again." Lysandre's leg warmed under Blaziken mask's gloved hand, "If I knew who you were I would like to thank you-"

The masked hero bound to the back door of the hospital, leaving only the ghost of heat from his contact, and called out through the open doorway, "There is an injured man out here, bring a wheelchair!"

With a quick leap, he was by his Mega Blaziken's side. He swished his cape with a bit of flair and gave Lysandre a quick bow, "Take care, Lysandre. I must complete the task at hand to make sure this never happens again!"

If Lysandre would have blinked he would have missed the fantastic action of man and pokémon taking to the air with inhuman ability. By the time a nurse and security came out to fetch him, Blaziken Mask was long gone.

It wasn't until Lysandre was being wheeled to a room that the thought struck him, _"I never told Blaziken Mask my name."_

 

* * *

 

It wasn't until nearly a week that Lysandre's busy schedule allowed him time to pay a visit to Sycamore labs. The weather was only slightly more forgiving on the heat than before, but the air conditioning inside the building continued to purr without issue since its repair.

"Thank you again for everything, Meyer." Sycamore called with enthusiasm as Meyer gathered up his toolbox and walked with the Professor down the central staircase that led into the main lobby, "You are always such a lifesaver." There was a wink and a nudge, which caused Meyer face to flush slightly.

Lysandre regarded the approaching pair with interest, "Another repair?" He inquired, "What would the Professor do without you on call?"

"Probably call someone else." Meyer chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I should get going though, I'm glad I could assist Professor." He shook Sycamore's hand before pausing to speak to Lysandre, "How are your legs feeling?" He asked without thinking.

He was quick to realize his mistake when Lysandre's expression shifted to confusion, "How did you know that my legs were injured?"

Sycamore cut in, "Wait, when did you get hurt?"

Meyer went for quick damage control, "I saw you limping slightly! Sorry, I shouldn't have been so nosy!" he ended his sentence with a nervous laugh and waited with building anxiety for Lysandre to respond.

Lysandre waved dismissively, "It isn't an issue. I am doing much better, thanks for asking." He turned to the Professor who looked quite concerned still, "It was just a tiny accident, Augustine, nothing that was worth troubling you with mon ami."

Sycamore let out an exaggerated sigh, "That is good to hear, my goodness though if you are limping you should come with me and take a seat."

"I will shortly," Meyer caught the corner of Lysandre's gaze, "I forgot something in the cab, I need to contact them and have the driver bring it back around. I'll meet you in your office after."

The Professor nodded, "I'll see you soon, I'll brew some coffee." He gave Meyer a nod, "I'll see you again, say hello to the kids for me." With that he strolled back up the staircase, leaving Meyer and Lysandre alone.

The two men left the building and stood silently near one of the carved statues that bordered the walkway. Meyer was the first to speak up, "You didn't leave anything in the cab, did you?"

"Non." Lysandre busied himself by fixing the buttons on his sleeve and waited for a group of students to stroll by. After, he leaned in close to make sure only Meyer heard his words, "I'm not limping."

The nervousness still held for the mechanic slightly, his throat dipped as he swallowed. He knew his cover was blown, "You are not." His voice didn't falter.

Meyer's eyes met that of the taller man's, it was as though Lysandre was trying to pull any and all knowledge from him through his gaze, "So that is your secret." He finally added, "Remarkable."

"Remarkable?" The nervousness was still there, but it didn't seem to be caused by the same thing as before. Meyer's stomach wanted to twist and flip in the abdomen, it wasn't repulsive in nature. There was just something in the way that Lysandre regarded him. Someone, of whom the Professor talked up quite readily as great, thought he was remarkable.

"Of course," Lysandre continued, "You have taken on the mantle of a hero, that is quite ambitious and incredible." His palm flattened on Meyer's shoulder fondly, "You returned my Gyarados to me, for which I am still grateful."

Meyer's face grew hot under the praise, "I'm just doing what anyone else would have done."

Lysandre's grip on his shoulder tightened slightly before relaxing, "That is not even remotely true and you know it. You are a rarely in the world, someone that is to be admired." With a quick motion Lysandre hailed a cab, "I would be honored if I could buy you lunch." He held the door open for the other man.

Meyer simply blinked in response before he shook his head rapidly, "I couldn't!" He held his arms up in front of him, "I really shouldn't I mean, not that I wouldn't like to join you for lunch. I mean, that sounds lovely with you. I mean-"

"Meyer." Lysandre interrupted, "It really isn't any trouble."

The mechanic ruffled his hair and fixed his hat, "I'll go where ever you want to take me then." He finally relented.

Lysandre scooted into his seat after him with a smile gracing his lips, "Excellent." He then ordered the driver to take them to the most expensive restaurant that Lumiose had to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus ending:
> 
> Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt.
> 
> Lysandre felt his holocaster vibrating in his pants pocket. Perhaps it was rude to answer his device while out for a meal, but it was most likely important, "Excuse me." He murmured to his guest, "Bonjour?" He answered without checking the ID.
> 
> "Bonjour, Lysandre. Did you leave?"
> 
> A sudden heat swept over Lysandre's face at the sound of Sycamore's voice. He was so swept up in the moment he completely forgot that he was supposed to return to the lab, "I'm so sorry, I uh..."
> 
> There was laughter on the other end, "Box me up a dessert to bring back to me and I'll forgive you." There was a pause, "I'm glad that you and Meyer are getting along."
> 
> Lysandre groaned when the call ended, he could practically hear the wink through the device.


End file.
